A darkened figure leapt with predatory elegance from the tallest tower building across a deep chasm, landing ten or so feet lower. He crouched, hidden in the shadow of its neighbour while he scouted the surrounding area. The city of Merifry stretched out in all directions; the Government’s Castle beside the Higher Education School marked the centre of the city and four unique districts surrounded it like Saturn’s rings. The Governor’s District was small, only twenty houses that were big enough to be mansions, sat closest to the Castle. The government’s most important people lived here, with working electricity and hot running water. Surrounding those mansions was the large Suburban District, covered in petite brick town houses with trees and lush grass lining the paved streets. The minor members of the government lived in this district along with the wealthier civilians, with access to electricity during daylight hours and fresh water that sometimes ran hot. The district made up of black stone tower apartment buildings was small in terms of land space, but was the busiest of them all, with limited electricity for only specific requirements and water that ran at only one temperature once a week and had to be stored. Beyond the towers, favelas of makeshift shelters extended for miles with no access to clean water or electricity at any time of the year and food was almost non-existent. They came to an abrupt halt where a fifteen-foot chain-link fence marked the edge of the city.

The silhouette of a young man ran across the roof of the tower and leapt to another, five feet closer to the ground. He could navigate his path only by the light of the moon and stars. No windows were illuminated, and although it made his journey all the more difficult, it also helped him to hide. A beam of bright light emanated from the centre of the city, every window in every turret shining with electrical light. The figure thought the government was taunting the rest of the city by keeping its electricity running through the night. Pinpricks of flickering torchlight moved up and down the main streets as the guards of the city made their nightly patrol of the three closest districts. The young man watched them with his upper lip curled up in a snarl of disgust behind a black silk scarf.

Anyone caught outside after dark was shot on sight. It was still unclear why; they assumed the government was up to something they should not be under the cover of darkness. So far, nothing outstandingly illegal had been discovered. He flinched as the propellers of a helicopter sounded, lifting from a helipad on the Government’s Castle. Two spotlights shone from its underside, illuminating the darkened buildings. The figure grumbled quietly to himself and pulled his hood lower over his eyes, lifting his scarf to cover his nose. His eyes, although bare, were disguised in intricate, jagged patterns of blue war paint. Helicopters were his one worst enemy. He dropped down from the edge of his roof, landing in a roll on a slanted ledge that acted as a roof ten feet below. The shadows were darker here and he was surrounded by taller towers on three sides.

 

*   *   *

 

Over a year previously, Toby Cartwright raced with the enclosing dusk along the cobbled streets towards his apartment building. He could see the sun’s rays recede behind the horizon ahead of him; he pushed himself faster.

Toby could hear his own breath ragged in his ears, his lungs burned and his eyes watered. Guards dressed in red began to emerge from buildings with large, black, terrifying guns under their arms. Each of them eyed Toby with a clear warning as he sprinted past. His building was in sight at the end of the street and he had only half a minute of daylight left. He pushed himself even harder.

He crashed through the doors to the tower building, tripped over the threshold and landed sprawled on his front. He crawled forward on his elbows and kicked the door closed behind him.

The dark entryway was dimly lit by candles sitting in brackets on the walls. Toby heaved himself onto the second step of the staircase and allowed himself to rest a moment there. His heart beat thrice the speed it should and his breath came sharp and short. He sat with his elbows on his knees, his forehead in his hands. He hurt all over; his muscles felt torn to ribbons and his feet pounded flat. His knees shook. The owner of the café where Toby worked had requested he stayed until closing time, which was not a big request in reality, but the café was situated in the Suburban District and Toby lived on the outer ring of the Tower District. He was still wearing his waiter’s uniform with a black apron in his lap.

Once his nerve endings stopped tingling with adrenaline and his legs stopped trembling, Toby stood and blew out the candles; it was incredibly unlikely anyone else was still outside. And if they were, it was nearly impossible to get home alive in the dark. Anyone with sense would sleep where they were. Toby had spent the last two nights at the café, and risked the little time he had to get home purely because his bed was at least comfortable enough to sleep in. The cot at the café felt like lying on concrete.

Toby blew out each of the candles on his way up the three sets of stairs up to his apartment, leaving the one closest to his door lit while he fished out his key. It stuck in the lock, like usual, and he slammed his shoulder against the door to get it open. His breath seemed to freeze in his lungs. Toby fumbled for the matches in the dim light and quickly ran round lighting all his candles before he returned briefly to the corridor to blow out the final candle. He locked the door and left the key on the table.

His apartment was minimalistic, with only one bedroom, one bathroom and a sitting room that turned into a kitchen at one end. Toby headed into his bedroom and, halfway through changing out of his uniform, there was a muffled thump on his front door and he jumped half a foot in the air. A disgruntled groan followed the sound and Toby went cautiously out into the sitting room, his shirt draped over only one shoulder. A knock followed, accompanied by the grumbling voice of Jake, a friend and neighbour of Toby’s.

Toby pulled open the door and shrugged on his shirt. “Have you not learnt to morph through solid matter yet?” he asked.

“Funny,” Jake muttered back, shoving past him into the apartment. “Why do you always blow the candles out when you get home?” Before Toby could explain the importance of making the candles last as long as possible, he continued, “It’s considered impolite to answer the door undressed.”

“I was afraid you might hurt yourself,” Toby answered snidely as he fastened the last of the buttons. “Do you have an issue with my chest?”

Jake shrugged. “It’s a bit bony. I know the girls think you’re cute, Toby, but you don’t really do it for me.”

Toby smirked, but Jake had his back to him. He began picking up things and examining them without interest with his grey eyes. “What brings you home so late?” he asked as he flipped a vase upside down and put it back on the wrong surface. “Why did you bother risking the dark?” He started juggling with some ornamental pinecones that had been in the apartment before Toby moved in.

“I’ve slept at the café for the past two nights, and I may as well have not slept at all,” Toby answered irritably. He wanted Jake to leave so he could go to bed. Jake had no such plan.

“So why didn’t you just go to your parents’?” He put the pinecones in the sink and helped himself to an apple. “It’s nicer and closer to the café.”

“I would rather sleep on a concrete slab than go back to sharing a room with my brother.”

Jake shrugged and shook his ash blonde hair out of his eyes. It brushed his collar and tickled his neck as he glanced around the kitchen area for something else to look at. Toby replaced the vase in its correct place right side up and moved the pinecones back to the table beside the sofa. The sink had fortunately been dry. “Is there a reason you came to see me?” he asked his friend.

Jake put his free hand against his chest as though the question hurt him. “You never want to see me anymore.”

“Not when I haven’t slept for two days and I have to get to the college for eight o’clock tomorrow.” Toby grasped Jake’s wrist as he reached for another apple, having discarded the core of the first on the countertop. “Stop eating my food.”

“I’m hungry,” Jake protested.

“Then go back to your own apartment and eat your own food.”

Jake scowled. “Don’t be so grumpy.”

“I haven’t slept for-!” Toby broke off at the sound of propellers. Jake, his stomach forgotten, bounded over to the window and pulled the right curtain back an inch. A spotlight shined briefly on his face and he yanked the curtain back shut. Toby followed him to the window and glanced through a tiny gap between the curtain and the window frame. Three helicopters, each with two separately moving spotlights, were circling the district.

Jake cursed softly in wonder. “Where do they get the money for them?”

“The government?” Toby suggested dully. “There has to be some connection. People drop dead from guns that no one can possibly afford and the mayor does absolutely nothing about it?”

Jake shrugged. “So long as you stay out of the dark, you don’t die,” he pointed out. “To be completely honest, I don’t understand how people haven’t got the message yet.”

Toby looked incredulously over at Jake, who had his nose almost pressed against the glass. “Jake.” He looked up, and Toby punched him in the eye.

Jake landed heavily on his back, almost pulling the curtain rail down with him. He sat back up, one hand pressed against his left eye. “Ow!” he exclaimed, more out of annoyance than pain.

“People die, Jake,” Toby snapped angrily.

“Okay, okay!” Jake replied, holding up his free hand in surrender. “All I’m saying is that this has been going on for what, twenty years now? I don’t understand why people are still getting caught outside after dusk.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Toby thought that Jake had a valid point. Instead of agreeing, he answered, “Perhaps people are more willing to risk their lives than sleep on lead beds at work.”

Jake hauled himself back to his feet. “I wasn’t meaning you, Toby.”

Toby shrugged and looked back out the window. Jake joined him, peering out the other side of the curtain. The three helicopters closest to them – spots of light in the distance were visible now – began to fly closer to the roofs of the towers, circling a small area with all six spotlights trained on the same place.

The boys shared a concerned look. “Do you think they’ve found someone?” Toby asked. Jake just shrugged, but he was far from disinterested.

A shotgun fired and they both fell straight to their knees beneath the windowsill. It was an instinctive reaction and a blood-curdling scream of pain followed. Slowly, Toby peered over the windowsill outside and watched the shots explode from the helicopters underside. The scream cut off short and Toby’s blood ran cold.

He sat down heavily, leaning against the wall and clawed his fingers into his hair. “That was a woman’s scream.”

Jake sat beside him, loosely embracing his knees. “Anyone we know?”

Toby shrugged. “It’ll be in the paper tomorrow.”

The boys sat in silence for what seemed like hours before Jake spoke again. “I can’t believe she just got let out from work. No one’s outside after six; where could possibly still be open?”

“The spotlights were pointing into an alley,” Toby said. “They’re safer, but take longer.”

Before either of them could speak again, a deafening explosion broke the night. The glass rattled dangerously in its frame as Toby yanked the curtain back. The tail of the helicopter that had fired the shots was on fire and spinning uncontrollably. The pilot was just about managing to keep it airborne. Toby’s heart beat loudly and rapidly in his chest as the helicopter spun towards a tall tower. He glanced over at Jake; his face was illuminated by the fire and his eyes wide as he watched the scene before him. Toby looked back outside.

“Do you see that?” he snapped suddenly. “On the tower opposite. Do you see them?”

“Toby, my short attention span is all used up right now on the flaming, out of control helicopter.”

“But look.” A shadow of a figure that looked more like a four-legged spider from this distance was scaling up the side of the opposite tower. Toby watched them with a furrowed brow. He could not see any detail of the figure, but saw, as they reached the roof, that they had a bow. The figure nocked an arrow and let it fly towards the already flaming helicopter. Halfway through its flight, the arrow caught fire. A second, louder explosion sent the helicopter flying towards the Suburban District the second the arrow hit.

“I saw that,” Jake commented.

The flying machine landed on a large stretch of grass, sending up a flurry of red and orange flames and a plume of black smoke.

There were no sirens. No screams. Apart from the propellers of the other helicopters, which were now retreating back towards the Castle, there was complete silence. Toby could no longer see the figure with the bow.

“Do you think that will be in the papers?” Jake asked and Toby’s head snapped round at the hint of humour in his voice. To his complete surprise, Jake was grinning.

“What are you smiling about?”

“We just watched a Dark Keeper helicopter get taken down by civilians,” Jake pointed out. “How can that not be something to smile about?” Toby hesitated. “Come on, Toby, it means we’re finally starting to fight back.”

“No civilian can get access to a bow with that sort of range; or explosive arrows, for that matter,” Toby said.

“Not any old civilian can get them,” Jake answered. He lowered his voice as though it was possible someone was listening in. “There’s been talk of a guild that has been planning to overthrow the Dark Keepers. It’s impossible to identify them in the street, it’s made up of separate groups, they have secret hideouts and they must have a mole in the government to get hold of those kinds of weapons.”

Toby was speechless for a moment. He glanced back outside, but nothing had changed. The helicopters had retreated, the fire was still going on the grass, and the shadow figure was gone.

“I can’t imagine it will work,” he mumbled lamely after a moment.

Jake rolled his eyes. “You’re such a pessimist.”

“Go home, Jake. I need to sleep. And if what you say is true, life is going to get a lot more difficult.”

Jake scowled and stalked towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Toby nodded, but the door had already closed. He pulled his curtains back across the window and was just heading to his bedroom when the electrical buzzer connected to the entrance to his building buzzed. Toby froze mid-step and stared at the buzzer.

It buzzed again, and again, until Toby cautiously approached it. He held down the button allowing him to talk. “Who’s this?”

“Tobias Cartwright.”

The voice on the other end was strong and striking, like the toll of a bell. Toby was hesitant to answer. “You might want to get yourself home.”

There was a slight chuckle. “Are you not going to invite me into the safety of your apartment?”

“No,” he said, a little too quickly. “I don’t know who this is.”

“Wise choice.”

He was gone. Toby stood staring at the buzzer for a few moments in a trance, trying to understand what had just happened. He shook himself and tried to forget the unforgettable voice on the other end of his buzzer.

Even though he was exhausted, Toby lay awake for at least half an hour thinking about Jake’s rumours. Night had been forbidden for as long as he could remember; he had had nightmares about being outside in the dark when he was a child. It seemed unreal that there were people rebelling against the Dark Keepers by destroying a helicopter with government weapons.

 

  *   *   *

 

Still crouched in the shadow of the three neighbouring towers, Toby watched the spotlights glaze over the black stone, only a few feet above his head. Keeping close to the ground, he scurried to the side to avoid the edge of the light as it scanned across his roof. It moved on after a brief search, which Toby avoided with relative ease.

He straightened and watched the helicopter disappear behind a tower before he took a step back. Toby was halfway through his run-up to the next roof when another spotlight peeked up from behind the top of a tower directly in front of him, the white spotlight temporarily blinding him. The momentum of his run sent him over the edge of the tower and he launched himself towards the next, grappling blindly for the edge of the next building. His fingertips scraped the very corner of the roof, but not enough to maintain the hold. He fell, his hands frantically searching for holds in the stone.

He was fortunate enough to grasp onto a windowsill, the sudden, jerking halt straining his shoulders. With a glance down, he realised he was still sixty feet from the ground. He dropped onto the windowsill one floor down, grasping onto the wall for balance. He did not allow himself check if the curtains were closed before he hopped onto a ledge just wide enough for his feet that wound around the tower. Toby stepped off onto a low roof on the east side.

The spotlight shone on him again and, without looking up, he broke into a run across the roofs and ledges between buildings. Men dressed in red leapt down from surrounding roofs, nipping at Toby’s ankles before he scaled up the side of one of the taller towers, jumping shadows in an attempt to lose them. Guns started firing, from above and below from the helicopters and the hand pistols the Dark Keeper soldiers carried. Toby zigzagged along his path between narrow alleys above the ground to limit range and accuracy. Nevertheless a bullet nicked his lower leg and he stumbled, cursing. Ignoring the burning sensation, he kept running.

Once he lost the spotlights and the chasing soldiers, Toby rested on a ledge surrounded by three high walls that his him mostly from view. With his breath coming harshly in his lungs, he rolled up his trouser leg and examined the bullet wound. A small chunk of flesh had been nicked out of his calf and was bleeding heavily, but it was not life threatening. Not so long as it did not get infected. He scaled down the side of the building, keeping as much weight off his wounded leg as possible. The task was slower than usual, but the Dark Keepers had lost track of him completely.

Six feet from the floor, someone grabbed onto the ankle of his wounded leg and he nearly lost his grip on the windowsill above him. He called out as his wound flared in pain and he attempted to shake off his captor, which was difficult with only his fingertips supporting his weight. He was pulled down and he lost his grip. He landed on his wounded leg, which collapsed beneath him. He fell heavily on his hip and hands.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you were hurt.”

With his hands clasped to his bloody leg and his eyes watering, Toby scowled up at the silhouette of his friend. A pair of large, blue-grey eyes stared down at him above a black silk scarf. “The yell of pain should have been explanatory enough.”

“Don’t be cold, Toby.” She offered her hands and helped him back onto his feet.

“Don’t sneak up on me, Lucy,” he snapped back irritably.

“I didn’t sneak up on you. I tugged on your leg to let you know I was there.”

Toby decided to let it rest rather than complain of his injury again. He limped beside her as they made their way through the maze of alleys. Lucy offered her shoulder for him to lean on, but he declined. They walked mostly in silence and Toby’s comments were cooler than usual. He and Lucy had a history that had not quite faded into non-existence, or at least tolerable existence. Lucy did not appear to notice.

“Were you looking for me?” Toby asked after an uncomfortably long period of silence.

“Not especially,” Lucy replied with a shrug. “Lukas asked me to keep an eye out for you, but I was actually on my way back from the Suburban district.”

“What were you doing there?”

“Spying. Lukas doesn’t let us do anything else alone.” She glanced up at him, smiling slyly. “What were you up to on the rooftops?”

Toby had been dreading that question. “Nothing.”

“Uh-huh. You risked being spotted by the guards, and the helicopters, got yourself injured to do…nothing.” He did not appreciate the sarcasm, but said nothing. Lucy, unsatisfied with his disgruntled silence, pushed on. “You were looking for her, weren’t you? You were going to her house.”

“I was scouting,” Toby replied, his voice clipped.

“Scouting for your girlfriend,” Lucy corrected. “The others are beginning to worry that you’re drawing attention to the outpost. Unless you want to integrate yourself back into society, you need to stop looking for her.”

Toby stopped and turned on her. “Don’t talk about her. Don’t mention her again.”

Lucy narrowed her war-painted eyes up at him. “I think I’ve earned the right to talk about her.”

Toby had no reply to this, nor did he want to think about it. He turned away and hobbled on, leaving Lucy to flank him silently.

2: The Night Wanderers

Toby stopped at the turn into an alley that ran underneath a tower building. Lucy slipped past him and scurried to the other end of the covered alley. The propellers of the helicopters were still audible, but much further away now. Toby could not hear any of the foot guards either, which made him question where they went. He had been chased before on nights like this, and they never gave up this easily.

“Clear,” Lucy called softly from the other side of the tunnelling pathway.

“Clear,” Toby repeated, turning into the tunnel and meeting Lucy half way. He kept his eyes on both exits while Lucy cleared a sheet of moss from the wall to reveal a low door. They paused in silence to listen for anyone or anything that might see them.

“Let’s go,” Toby said. Lucy held open the door as he limped through, into a descending staircase in pitch blackness. The sound of the door closing behind Lucy echoed loudly all the way down the passage. Toby knew from experience that it would be loud enough at the bottom to alert the others that they were on their way.

“How long have you been out?” Lucy asked in no more than a murmur, but still an echo surrounded them.

“Since sundown,” Toby answered at the same volume.

“It’s nearly dawn,” she pointed out, surprised. “When do you have time to sleep?”

“I’m nocturnal. Like an owl.”

Lucy had no response and they continued the descent in relative silence. Toby became very aware of the depth of the passage with his injured leg flaring with every step. His breath kept catching and he was certain that Lucy could hear it, but she said nothing. She was not someone to offer sympathy if there was nothing she could do.

A thick curtain marked the end of the staircase and Toby almost fell through it. Lucy caught him under the elbow to prevent him falling over completely, but his stumble caught the attention of the six people in the room.

“Good morning,” Oliver greeted them with a wry smile.

Toby nodded in return, not quite trusting his voice. He sat in a low chair in the corner and rolled up his trouser leg, examining the wound. He felt his stomach jolt at the amount of blood, but it was not the first time a bullet had caught him. Lucy pulled off her coat and scarf and went to the bathroom to fetch gauze.

“What did you see?” Lukas asked before anyone else could. He sat back in the chair behind the desk, his eyes on Toby’s.

Toby winced, which he tried to cover up with a shrug. He pulled the scarf away from his mouth to reply. “Helicopters and foot soldiers. Nothing of note.”

“How many?”

“I was too concerned with running for my life to count them, Lukas,” Toby answered as Lucy returned with a roll of gauze, a sterilised pad and a pot of disinfectant ointment. She placed them on the table beside Toby before joining the five Night Wanderers crowding around Lukas’ desk. He had a map on the table, along with several papers that could have been letters or commands; stolen from a Dark Keeper, no doubt.

Lukas continued to hold Toby’s gaze and he was forced to make an estimate. “Two helicopters on my tail, four others on standby. Too many foot soldiers to count.”

“Could they identify you?” Lukas asked carefully.

“I don’t think so.” Toby shook his head and returned his attention to his injured leg. He dabbed tentatively at the ointment before moving to the open wound, gritting his teeth before touching the outer edges of the bloody dent in his leg while the discussion continued.

“We were followed through the alleys for the best part of three hours this afternoon,” Marcus was saying.

“Dark Keepers?” Lukas asked, his eyes now on the papers in front of him.

“Most likely. They didn’t look just curious.” Marcus glanced sideways at Jason before continuing. “They tried to take a shot at us when we led them in a circle. I think they were trying to scare us, hoping we would lead them here.”

“Did you?”

“Of course not,” Jason replied. He sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by blueprints. “We ran back into the street. Of course, the shot should have been heard by everyone within a half-mile radius, but people can choose to have selective deafness if the threat is not right in front of them.”

“It’s illegal to shoot during daylight,” Lucy pointed out coldly. “How did they think they could get away with that?”

“Well, they did,” Jason answered. “They lost track of us in the street.”

“Were you wearing your scarves and war paint?” Lukas asked as he picked up one of the papers on his desk. Toby paused to try and read it over his shoulder, but the writing was too small. Some words had been underlined in red ink.

“In daylight? No.”

“You have to ask?” Lucy’s voice turned icy and her eyes narrowed dangerously. “What kind of idiots do you take us for?”

Toby spotted the hardening around Lukas’ eyes and the momentary lapse in attention caused him to catch the edge of his wound. He made a sound of pain that was close to a yelp that gained the attention of everyone in the room. Lukas looked over and moved as though he wanted to get up, but Hannah was quicker. She knelt at his side and took the ointment from him. “Try not to focus on the pain too much,” she advised, oblivious to the hard look Lucy was giving her.

“I have had bullet wounds before,” he muttered, but she ignored him. He turned his attention back to the conversation as Hannah tended to his wound. He had spent most of his time in the outpost avoiding her and now having her look after him made for an uncomfortable situation, at least for Toby. Like Lucy, she seemed unfazed by his awkwardness.

“You haven’t let us do anything of use in weeks,” Lucy continued with less ice in her tone. “Those of us that have left the outpost have managed to do nothing but spy, with nothing to report. It is still illegal to walk the streets at night, and there is still nothing being done about it.”

“Patience, sister,” Lukas replied quietly. “With our outpost so close to being found, it is best that we keep a low profile for a while.”

“So you knew the Dark Keepers were close to finding us?” Lucy asked sceptically. Her hood was still up and the scarf covered her nose, her eyes decorated in patterns of war paint. She sometimes liked to keep the guise of anonymity, even inside the outpost where everyone recognised her voice anyway.

“If Toby stayed in the outpost at night rather than ‘spying’, we might not need to keep a low profile,” Marcus mumbled, but everyone heard.

“What Toby chooses to do during his time here is his choice,” Lukas said coolly.

“As far as the public is concerned, Toby has been dead for nearly a year. His appearances are more risky,” Oliver pointed out.

“I wear the same disguise as the rest of you,” Toby snapped, partially because a nerve ending flared under Hannah’s touch. “It is designed to hide our identity. I am no more recognisable than you.”

“Either way,” Lukas spoke before the argument could escalate, “I have an assignment lined up; one that involves more than spying.” Everyone, including Toby, leant forward fractionally to listen. Lukas swept the papers off the map and pointed to an area circled in red. “This is the point where Jack was killed three weeks ago.”

“What of it?” Lucy asked impatiently. “Members of the Night Wanderers are killed every week.”

“Not from our Watch,” Lukas responded in a tone that told her to be quiet. “Everyone here is a skilled fighter and I do not appreciate them being lost so easily-”

“What’s the assignment?” Marcus asked.

Lukas’ mouth hardened at the corners in irritation at being interrupted. Hannah scraped a lot of ointment onto the cloth pad and held it to the open gun wound on Toby’s leg. He bit the inside of his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sounds of pain, but a low grunt still escaped him. Hannah mumbled an apology as she wrapped the gauze around his calf, holding the pad in place.

“Are you okay?” Lukas asked. Toby nodded stiffly as Hannah stood and moved away. He did not look at her; she reminded him too much of Elsa. “Good, because I want you on this mission.”

Toby frowned in confusion while the rest of the group asked, “Why?”

“I want him on this mission because, unlike the rest of you, I believe that Toby’s anonymity is more of a help than a hindrance,” Lukas announced to quiet the rest of the group. “I want the man responsible for Jack’s death assassinated.”

“How will Toby help with that?” Alex demanded.

 

“On the off chance that one of you is recognised, Toby can no longer be associated with a civilian,” Lukas pointed out. “In any case, his injury will force him to move slowly, and precision is more important than speed in this instance.”

“You want me to do this alone?” Toby asked warily.

“Not at all,” Luka replied as though the answer was obvious. “Oliver will be your partner on this task, and Lucy will be your shield.” Oliver grimaced to himself but Lucy was almost vibrating with excitement. “Toby and Oliver will tail the man in question until they reach an optimum position. We need him either completely alone, or at least not in the eye line of any guards. Lucy will be on the rooftops, scouting the area. She will be able to tell you if the way is clear. If you get yourselves into trouble, her bow may also come in handy.”

“Which man are we tailing?” Oliver asked as Lucy demanded, “When are we going?”

Lukas smiled slightly, but it did not reach his eyes. “You leave tonight, when darkness has fallen. Your target is a man by the name of Peter Prendergast.”

“The nobleman?” Toby asked, surprised. “How was he Jack’s killer?”

“I didn’t say he was Jack’s killer. I said he was the man responsible for Jack’s death.” At the sight of all the puzzled faces in the room, Lukas continued, “The night Jack died, Peter Prendergast ordered a dozen Dark Keepers to keep a watch over his home. He bribed them with a small fortune, and we still do not know why. None of the Night Wanderers do. My guess is that something was happening that he did not want anyone to know about, even the government.”

“How does Jack relate to this?” Lucy asked.

“Jack was scouting the suburban district that night. It was the excess of Dark Keepers that got him killed; on any other night, he would have been able to escape them with nothing other than a few scratches.”

“That could be called circumstance,” Toby pointed out carefully. “He didn’t intend for Jack’s death.”

“And what was Jack doing scouting alone?” Marcus added.

“Jack was not scouting at my command,” Lukas stated coldly. “I never instruct any of you to scout alone. If Prendergast was doing something that even the government would disapprove of, I have no qualms about having him assassinated. Lucy and Toby, go and get yourselves cleaned up. Make sure you have enough sleep today in preparation for tonight.”

“Why should we bother washing if we will reapply the paint later anyway?” Lucy muttered.

“Believe me, it will become uncomfortable after a few more hours,” Lukas replied, even though Lucy had not intended for an answer. She offered a hand to help Toby up, which he accepted in order to test his weight on his injured leg. The surrounding muscles were weakened, but he could walk.

He limped towards the bathroom with Lucy at his side, leaving the rest of the Watch in the office room. Toby heard the discussion continue, but Lukas was no longer contributing. Lucy kept glancing sideways at him, as though expecting him to fall over.

The bathroom was small, with two cubicles, one shower and a large, circular sink with four taps. The water usually ran cold, the hot water saved for the shower. Both Toby and Lucy shed their coats and scarves, along with their shirts in order to wash. There was no awkwardness between the Watch members when washing, but Lucy insisted on keeping an undervest on. Most of the others felt it was unnecessary, but Toby never complained. He thought she was entitled to her privacy, and also found washing much less awkward with Lucy than with Hannah, despite their history.

“Will you be up to an assassination tonight?” she asked, scrubbing the paint off her nose.

“Lukas seems to think so,” Toby replied, catching water in his cupped hands.

“How do you feel?” she asked, leaning on the sink opposite him. “Lukas is clever, yes, but he can’t tell you how you feel. If you would much rather put your feet up for a couple of days while your leg heals, no one would judge you.”

“When have I ever put my feet up and let someone else take my assignments?” Toby splashed water on his face and snorted as some went up his nose. Lucy wrinkled her nose in disgust as she was splashed.

“You haven’t always been so eager to kill,” she pointed out quietly.

Toby was silent as he scratched at the paint under his eyes. “I’m sure you haven’t been either.”

She smirked at him. “I’ve always been a bloodthirsty monster. You were a budding scholar once upon a time.” Toby leant on the edge of the sink, his hair dripping over his eyes. Little over a year ago he had been dedicated to the Academy and his study.

 

*   *   *

 

Toby’s sleep had been disturbed by thoughts and dreams of exploding helicopters and shadowy people in long coats. It was no surprise that he woke up late and found himself bathing in lukewarm water that was closer to cold than hot and rushing out the door with his shirt only half buttoned.

He raced along the street, now bustling with life. He dodged between mules and their carts full of fresh produce. Vendors hailed passing citizens and drew them to their sweet-smelling stalls of fruits or perfumes. From everyone in the Tower District, Toby was the best dressed. His clothes were not old and moth-eaten, but this was a result of being a student of the Academy. As long as you were clever, strong, or athletically skilled, the government, through the Academy, would look after you.

“Toby!”

Toby turned to the source of the voice, still running. He waved hurriedly to Benjamin, an elderly homeless man that spent his daylight hours in the Tower District. Toby brought him food in exchange for information on the favelas, skirting for miles outside the towers. Toby had ambition to change the city, to find out what made the night forbidden and improve life for every citizen. He was not yet certain what the Academy’s students generally went on to achieve, but he had his own goals in mind. Currently, however, Toby had no food with him, but made a mental note to bring something to him after work.

There was no physical border between the Tower and Suburban districts, but the sudden change in scenery left no doubt in one’s mind when they left the poorer area of the city behind. Toby had grown up here, in the neat little neighbourhood of orange-brick town-houses, and still worked in a small café close to the Academy. His work clothes were currently stashed in the rucksack slung over one shoulder, along with the assortment of scrolls and notepads he had been translating. He was as fluent in Latin as he was in shorthand English.

The Suburban District was much quieter than the Towers, and the people he did see were far better dressed, calmer, cleaner, and considerably less friendly. He paid little attention to the cold looks from the people that knew his family and thought him mad for choosing to live in a tower rather than stay in his beautiful family home. Toby had moved away soon after receiving his place in the Scholar’s college at the Academy. Translating scriptures with his younger brother buzzing about was near impossible.

He caught sight of the straggling students climbing the steps to the Academy as he rounded a corner into the Governor’s District. He raced to catch up with them before the doors closed for the day. He snatched the edge of the door just as a petite girl with rich brown hair was entering. She looked up in surprise at his sudden appearance and smiled in greeting. Toby’s breath caught, but he hid it with a smile in return. Elsa’s smile could light up the room and ignited a warm glow in his heart.

 

*   *   *

 

“Stop it.”

Toby blinked and looked up. Lucy stared at him with hard eyes across the sink. “Excuse me?”

“I know you’re thinking about her. Stop it.” He sighed and splashed water onto his face, hoping to wash away the lingering image of Elsa’s smile, her warm, bright green eyes that, when she looked at him, made him feel like he was the only thing to see. Lucy’s steely grey gaze was a sharp contrast. “Look, it doesn’t do any good to linger on times gone by. You’re dead, as far as the city is concerned, as far as Elsa is concerned.”

“Don’t say her name. Please.” He brought his hands up to his face as though to scrub at the paint some more, but he left them there. Remembering her name and face was painful enough; having other people mention her name made her real and not some part of a beautiful dream he once had.

“Toby…” Hearing Lucy’s voice full of concern and sympathy was a surprise. She came around the sink to stand close and gently brought his hands down. She held them in her own and looked up at him, abandoning the hard, defensive mask. She was close enough for him to see the faint blue stains on her skin left by the war paint. Her closeness was comforting, and Toby found it too pleasant to push her away. She stretched up and kissed him.

Lucy was fairly tall, boyish and not at all like Elsa. She pushed him against the wall, dug her fingernails into the bare skin of his shoulders and kissed him hard. The flimsy fabric of her vest was the only thing separating her chest from his. She was strong, commanding and knew exactly what she wanted. She in no way reminded him of Elsa; this helped ease his pain, and he could almost lose himself in the fiery passion Lucy provided him.

But she was not Elsa.

Toby grasped hold of her arms and held her away from him. Her touch had once made him lose all sense of reality, including his feelings for Elsa, and he was sure she could do it again. He waited a moment for his blood to stop racing and his breath to catch up before speaking. “Not again,” he hissed quietly.

Her expression flickered between surprise and hurt before she rearranged her features back into the hard mask. She jerked away from him, her chin held proudly. “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly, sweeping up her shirt, coat, and scarf. The bathroom door opened and Lucy flounced out just as Lukas stepped in. He watched her go before letting the door close.

“Are you still sleeping with her?” he asked, his voice surprisingly light.

“No,” Toby answered coolly and immediately regretted it. It was not Lukas’ fault, he reminded himself. “I don’t love her,” he added in explanation.

“I know,” Lukas answered. Gold curls framed his bright blue eyes as he stared levelly at Toby. “Sex doesn’t usually equate to love. But I understand you feel as though you have been unfaithful.”

“I have been unfaithful,” Toby replied morosely.

“You weren’t in a relationship with her,” Lukas pointed out. “She thinks you’re dead. She may well have moved on to another man.”

The thought made Toby’s stomach churn sickeningly. “She knew how I felt.”

“You weren’t in a relationship,” he repeated firmly. “You haven’t been unfaithful to Elsa. Nevertheless, you need to stop stringing Lucy along. I think she is truly hurt by your lust for her that is clearly misplaced.”

“I have never strung her along,” Toby protested. “I have slept with her only three times, and each time, she has been the one to approach me.”

Lukas nodded slowly. “That doesn’t surprise me. Even so, Toby, stop allowing her to seduce you.”

“Did you come in here just to lecture me?” Toby asked.

“No. I came in here to tell you that, after your assignment tonight, I want you to go home.”

“Home?” Toby repeated, as though the word was one of foreign origins. “Why?”

“I need you to reintegrate yourself into the city. We are safer so long as the citizens know who we are, without knowing what we are doing. Besides, if the Dark Keepers find this place and decide to storm it during the day when, they suspect, we will all be asleep, none of us will be here.”

“What am I supposed to tell people?” Toby asked, the prospect beginning to panic him. “My family, my friends?” Elsa?

Lukas shrugged, and even that movement was graceful. Toby was certain that Lukas had never heard of the term clumsy. “You have two days to think about a believable story. Go back to your apartment, rebuild your life. Get your day job back if you can.” He made towards the door before adding, “Elsa will be waiting for you there.”

Toby’s throat constricted at the information and by the time he found his voice, Lukas had left.

3: 3 - Peter Prendergast

Toby handed over the translated scriptures to his professor before taking a seat on the top tier of the amphitheatre, where he had a good view of the rest of the students. He liked being able to observe without being observed. He had a small desk to take notes on and laid out his notepaper and a few pens in preparation for the lecture, but as soon as he sat back up, his attention was stolen by Elsa.

She entered with two friends. Of the three, she was the only one to hand in some translations. She looked up suddenly and met his eye, and it was at this moment that he realised he had been sitting with his chin on his hand, his jaw slack, practically drooling. He looked away hurriedly and busied himself with his papers, even though they did not need organising. All of them were blank, waiting for the day’s notes: Latin for the first hour, short-hand for the second, and then two hours on mathematics and nuclear physics. He firmly told himself not to look at her once during the four hours of tuition.

“Can I sit with you?”

Toby’s self-discipline was short-lived as Elsa approached him. She had a satchel at her hip and held a large notepad in one arm. A pen was stuck behind her ear, lifting her brown hair out of her face. He nodded with a smile he hoped looked friendly. She smiled warmly back at him.

“I tend to get distracted when I sit with my friends, and I know you’re always working really hard up here, so I know you won’t distract me,” she explained. “Maybe you can even help me.”

He doubted he would be able to concentrate enough to help her with anything, but all he said was, “Sure, if you need it.”

Elsa sat beside him and organised her desk accordingly. Toby watched her out of the corner of his eye until the professor stepped up to the podium. He sat up straight and poised his pen over his paper.

“Translate these phrases without the use of notes, please,” the professor commanded. “They are common labels for old or secret documents.” He then started writing on the huge blackboard behind him, chalking Latin words with harsh lines. Toby copied them down one by one and translated them. Many of the words were synonyms for more common or obvious ones, such as the phrase replacing maximum with summo, but Toby was fairly good at spotting them. Elsa, on the other hand, struggled. She had many words translated, but very few full phrases. The end of her pen tapped irritably on her desk as she thought, a crease of concentration between her brows.

Toby spent several minutes contemplating whether or not to help her, afraid that if he helped she would wave away the help the way proud girls sometimes did, afraid that if he did not help she would consider him rude, or worse, smug. He decided the former was less of a risk and leant forward so he could speak to her.

“Is everything all right?” he asked in a low voice.

She nodded, and then sighed. “No. I don’t know these words. I assume they’re adjectives.”

“Yes,” Toby said encouragingly. “I’m sure you know them. They’re all synonyms for more obvious words, like secretum. Secret documents tend to use these words to deter inspection. If they were just old, the words would be standard.”

Elsa seemed to think about this information for a moment. “So this is a good indication of when the document was written.”

“It’s one way of predicting, I guess,” Toby admitted. “But I imagine the theory is flawed. Latin is a colourful language with many words, more words than in the English language. Some ancient documents will be written using these synonyms. Including direct copies of the transcripts, so we can’t judge by the state of the paper,” he added as she opened her mouth to argue.

She frowned at him. “How do you know so much?”

“I have no social life,” he answered with a slight smile, but it was the truth. He was always studying, working, or sleeping. Apart from the occasional late-night visit from Jake, he spent little time with the people he called friends. “I spend the free time I have translating the scriptures we’re given.”

“It sounds awfully lonely,” Elsa answered lightly, her attention back on her paper.

“Sometimes,” Toby admitted. “I tend to be too busy to be lonely.”

She did not look at him, but he caught her small smile as she scribbled words underneath the Latin phrases.

 

Later, between making cups of coffee and acting over-friendly to suburban customers, Toby worked discreetly on the new scripture he had been given. It was not only written in a mixture of Latin and short-hand, but also encrypted. He ducked beneath the counter during a quiet moment to translate some words he recognised, but he had only managed three when someone coughed on the other side.

He peeked up and felt his stomach flip. Elsa grinned down at him, leaning on the counter, her own copy of the scripture in hand. Toby stood up quickly and brushed his hair flat. “Hi.”

“Hey,” she answered, still grinning. “Were you working on the scripture?”

He nodded sheepishly. “It’s the only time I have. I work until the sun starts to go down, and then I have to run home if I want any chance of a good night’s sleep.”

She frowned at him. “Where do you live?”

“The Tower District.”

“I thought you came from the Suburban District,” she answered. “Most of the students do.”

“I did. I was brought up and educated here, but I moved to my own place as soon as I got my place at the school.” In answer to her questioning look, he added, “It is impossible to study with my brother around.”

She grimaced sympathetically, but quickly changed the subject. “If you were working on the scripture, I hope you’ve had more luck than me.” She held out her own translation sheet. “I’ve translated all the words, but it still doesn’t make sense. Have I done something wrong?”

Toby tried to hide a smile as a warm glow ignited in his chest. She had sought him out for help. He looked over at the sheet and saw that every word had been translated correctly, but she had not spotted the encryption. “The document has been encrypted,” he told her. “I would guess that it was written in English first, encrypted, and then translated. Top secret documents are hidden this way.”

Elsa stared at her paper for a few moments, concentrating on the words while Toby accepted coins from a customer and handed them a glass of lime water. When they were gone, Toby asked Elsa, “Is my advice all you came in for?” He realised he was nearing cockiness, but he kept his voice light and conversational.

She smirked up at him. “As valuable as your wisdom is, I’m here to meet someone.”

The glow seemed to fade slightly. “I see. Can I get you a drink while you wait for them?”

Elsa nodded. “Okay, then. I wouldn’t mind a hot chocolate.”

Toby set about making the most perfectly accurate cup of hot chocolate he could manage. He even made the shape of a leaf with the cream. She was busy scribbling when he placed it on the counter next to her, but she paused long enough to admire his handiwork. She smiled widely, and Toby hoped it meant she was impressed.

“Do you show off to all your clients?” she asked playfully.

“Only the ones that call me wise.”

She laughed quietly. “What do I owe you for it?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” She started to protest, but he continued, “I’m allowed a free drink every hour to keep me on my toes. I’m owed one from last hour, so you can have it.”

“Thank you.” She sounded genuinely grateful. It had not been a complete lie; he was owed a drink every hour. This just meant he would have to go through the next without one.

“Are you flirting with my date?”

Toby’s stomach dropped as Jake approached, his smile broad, and draped his arm over Elsa’s shoulders. He hoped his face did not portray the horror he felt at that moment. “Here, I’ll get that for you.” He reached for his wallet in order to pay for Elsa’s drink, but Toby, who had suddenly busied himself with his scripture, stopped him.

“She’s paid already.”

Elsa snuck a puzzled glance up at him, but Toby would not look at her. Jake did not question it and put his wallet away. He looked briefly at the leaf pattern in the brown liquid and said, “You never make that much effort with my drinks.”

“You wouldn’t appreciate it.” His tone was stony even to his own ears, but he could not find the will to even appear friendly. Jake did not seem to notice, or care.

“Is this Latin?” he asked Elsa. He attended the school also, but he belonged to the Guard’s college. His days were spent studying self-defence and the history of weapons. He had no need to learn Latin or the different decryption techniques.

“Partially,” she answered. “It’s also shorthand.”

“Such a colourful language, Latin,” Jake continued, as though she had not spoken. Toby could think of many colourful words to describe Jake at that moment, and none of them Latin. He felt somewhat betrayed by Jake, even though he had never expressed his feelings for Elsa openly. Jake had no way of knowing how he felt, but nevertheless. He scribbled violently on his paper and hoped the other two could not hear the anguish in the sound. He considered asking the pair of them to move away, so he would not have to watch them. Jake kept touching her. Stop it.

“Night Wanderer!”

Everyone in the small café looked up at the shout, flinching by the volume. Standing in the middle of the room was a young man that Toby recognised by face if not by name. He had just left the Academy. He glared down at another boy Toby had never seen before, who gazed back up blankly, astonished by the accusation.

“What are you-?” The boy started to defend himself, but the ex-Academy student launched himself at him, sending the boy and his chair to the floor. Toby acted instinctively to prevent any further damage to the property. His employer would fire him if anything happened under his supervision.

“What’s the problem?” Toby asked, positioning himself between the two young men that could not be far apart in age.

“He’s a Night Wanderer!” the student shouted again, pointing a threatening finger at the boy on the floor. Toby remembered his name now: Simon. Simon Blakewell.

“How on Earth can you know that?” Toby asked reasonably.

“Do you know how they disguise themselves?” Simon asked, now directing his wrath at Toby. “They have blue war-paint on their faces. He has blue stains around his eyes. That’s how I know.”

“Only a Dark Keeper would know that,” Toby pointed out darkly. “The rest of us are too busy hiding from the dark to know anything about them.” Simon seemed to suddenly realise what he had done. Everyone in the café glowered at him. Toby continued before he could talk himself out of it. “The girl that died last night, we all heard her screams. Did you know her? Were you the one to kill her?”

“He’s a rebel,” Simon replied, trying to avoid the accusations. “He is the reason the helicopter went down last night. He is the reason-”

“Two of your kin didn’t die because of the rebels. They died because they were killing innocent citizens. Any deaths the Guard experience, they bring it on themselves. I don’t know who this guy is, but if he is a rebel, then you can bet that almost everyone in this building will back him against you.”

“He’s a rebel. He’s bringing unbalance and danger to the city-”

“And you’re a murderer.” Toby pointed to the door. “Get out. I don’t serve killers of innocents.”

Simon did not move for a moment and looked as though he wanted to argue. He glanced around and realised that Toby was right; everyone in the room was willing to back the boy accused of being a Night Wanderer. He whirled on his heel and stormed out, knocking over a chair on the way.

The café was in complete silence, everyone staring at Toby. He turned to the boy still on the floor and offered a hand to help him up. He accepted. Up close, Toby realised that he was only a little older than himself and, as Simon had claimed, he could see the faint outlines of blue war-paint patterning the skin around his eyes. Oddly, there were none below his nose.

“Thank you, friend,” the boy said. “I’ll remember this. What’s your name?”

“Toby,” he answered.

“Toby,” the boy repeated, as though committing it to memory. “I’m Oliver.” He left soon after that.

“That was really brave,” Elsa said as Toby returned to his place behind the counter and the buzz of chatter slowly started up again. He shrugged casually and hoped his cheeks were not as red as they felt.

 

*   *   *

 

It was hard to imagine that the alleys had once been hard to navigate when Toby had first ventured out at night. Even if his eyes could not quite adjust enough to see every corner and wall, he had learnt to sense pathways using something like echo location. The area around the base he knew well enough to not even need that; he could made his way from the base to the edge of the Suburban District with his eyes closed. From there, however, he had to move slower to navigate correctly.

Oliver walked at his side as he limped through the alley connecting the Tower and Suburban Districts. The pain in his lower leg had faded over the course of the day, most of which he had spent sleeping, but the muscle was still too weak for him to walk properly. He and his partner were dressed in identical black clothes, covered with long, grey coats. They had matching black scarves covering the lower halves of their faces. The only thing separating them was the few inches difference in height, and the unique pattern of war-paint disguising their eyes.

“Can you see her?” Toby asked, his voice low and muffled by the scarf.

Oliver’s eyes slid to the rooftops alongside them, looking out for the agile figure jumping expertly from the high roofs of the towers to the lower townhouses. Lucy was the most skilled free-runner of the Watch, jumping incredible heights, barely making a noise. Toby and Oliver paused where the towers ended and waited for her signal as she scouted ahead.

Waving her bow meant the path was empty; holding it stationary meant there were guards close by. After a moment, her bow waved once. The boys continued, moving slowly through the more closely guarded Suburban District; there were not many alleys here and the buildings were not nearly as high as the towers or the shadows as dense.

Lucy led them slowly through the district, scouting in search of both guards and Peter Prendergast’s house. She, too, wore the same black clothes and grey coat that were designed to be androgynous, but her movements were undoubtedly feminine. She and Toby had not spoken since that morning in the bathroom, but they knew better than to let personal issues get in the way of work. He trusted her to lead them safely, and she trusted him to get the job done.

Her bow went up suddenly, held perfectly still and the boys stopped dead in their tracks, retreating back into the shadow. Lucy crouched low against the roof, out of their sight.

“Has she found the house?” Oliver asked in no more than a murmur.

“No. She wouldn’t be hiding if she had,” Toby pointed out. They waited well over a minute for Lucy’s silhouette to reappear. She waved her bow twice, and Toby knew that it meant hurry. And hurry he did, as far as his weakened leg would allow him. He could hear the distant footsteps of guards now as they ventured further into the district, and their progress slowed considerably.

To avoid the guards, Lucy had to lead them in a large loop that made their journey twice as long as it should have been. The wound on Toby’s leg began to ache and his limp became more prominent, slowing them further. Oliver’s eyes expressed concern, but he remained silent. They had all experienced similar wounds and worse, and knew that there was nothing to be done but grin and bear it. Lucy finally perched on the roof of one, particularly large house close to the border to the Governor’s District. There she stayed until the boys caught up to her. Without saying a word, she used her bow to point to one of the windows on the upper floor, although Toby was not exactly sure how she had worked out which was the correct one in such a short space of time. It was not the first time, either, that he had wondered if she was a clairvoyant.

While Lucy surveyed the surrounding streets, Toby kept his eye on the windows of the house, waiting for a light to come on or some other sign of life. Oliver began to scale the side of the house. The townhouses had less notches and handholds, which made climbing them slightly more difficult, but it was much harder to hurt oneself after a fall.

The window opened silently under Oliver’s hands. None of the windows in the city had locks – who would be around to thieve when the night was forbidden? – and Oliver pulled himself up to perch on the sill. He stared into the room for a moment before gesturing for Toby to follow.

Toby left Lucy to keep a lookout on the roof. She could alert them if guards were closing in, or shoot them if need be. His climb was slower than Oliver’s, because he could not put much weight on his injured leg. The room inside was dark, but clearly elaborate. The four-poster bed was large enough to sleep four people, but only one portly man lay beneath the beautifully embroidered quilt. He snored quietly, and Toby thought it odd that he slept separately from his wife. He sat perched on the too-large chest of drawers, a large, curve-bladed knife in his hands while Oliver paced towards the sleeping figure, standing on the other side of the bed, between Prendergast and the door.  He gently shook him awake. The action almost made Toby laugh; he would happily kill the oppressor, but he was gentle with them first.

“Good evening, Peter,” Oliver greeted as the man jerked awake. “Please don’t shout.”

Even though his hands were empty, Prendergast had a clear view of the array of weapons in Oliver’s belt, the blades glinting in the dim moonlight. They were more for show than anything; Oliver’s weapon of choice was the dagger, but he still carried a rapier and a machete, as well as an assortment of throwing knives.

“Night Wanderers?” Prendergast’s voice was hoarse and weary. “What do you want with me?”

“We would like to have a word with you,” Oliver said quietly.

“I’m not anything to do with the government,” Prendergast continued, panic-stricken. “Your problem is with them, not me. I’m on your side, I agree that the outer districts should be taken care of, the poverty out there is terrible-”

“I’m sure you do,” Oliver said, pulling out his dagger. “Please don’t raise your voice, because if you alert anyone to our presence, I will have to kill you.” Toby snorted softly behind his scarf. They would kill him whether he raised his voice or not. He only then seemed to realise Toby was sitting on his chest of drawers, blade in hand.

“We aren’t here to talk about the oppression,” Oliver continued. “I’m sure you must have read in the paper of the Night Wanderer that was shot by one of the guard not long ago?” Prendergast nodded worriedly. “His death was caused by the abnormal number of Dark Keepers surrounding your house that night. Dark Keepers that were not supposed to be there. We have documents that prove that there were more guards in this district than there should have been. This means that you paid them to guard your home.”

“What are you saying?” Prendergast asked. Toby was surprised by his seeming lack of fear. Maybe he thought he was dreaming.

“I’m saying that you are clearly up to something the government does not know about, nor do you want them to. Why were there so many men guarding you that night, Peter?”

Prendergast kept his mouth firmly shut.

Oliver flipped his dagger threateningly and Toby strengthened his grasp on his knife. “You have one more chance to tell me what you were doing, or we will have to assume that it was more of a danger than the government. There seems to be very little the government would disapprove of, but you seemed to think they would disapprove of this.”

“It was a private affair,” Prendergast answered stubbornly.

Oliver sighed, almost sadly. He sheathed the dagger and straightened up. Toby saw the portly man relax noticeably, like he thought he had gotten away with it. Toby gripped his knife and hopped down from the drawers. He locked eyes with Prendergast, who blanched and tried to scramble away, running in Oliver’s direction.

Toby leapt clumsily onto the bed, grasped Prendergast around the shoulders with his free arm and proceeded to run his blade across his target’s throat. Oliver, sprayed with blood, jumped back in disgust and stared down horrified at his coat. Toby let the man fall, screaming silently as air whistled through the gash in his neck, blood streaming down his chin. He half crawled towards Oliver, one hand clutching his torn throat while the other reached out to the boy in desperation. He tilted forward after a few second, sprawled across the ground with his arm still outstretched. His eyes stared blankly into space, still showing his last moments of terror.

Toby wiped off the worst of the blood on the sickeningly expensive bed quilt.

4: 4 - Let's Race The Night

Lukas slammed the newspaper down onto his desk, the front page showing the latest picture of Peter Prendergast, laughing merrily at the summer festival, less than two weeks ago. Headlines blared in bold, black letters:

 

GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL AND FRIEND, PETER PRENDERGAST, MURDERED IN HIS SLEEP. NIGHT WANDERERS SUSPECTED.

 

“He said he didn’t work for the government,” Oliver commented worriedly, turning the page slightly so that he could read the columns beneath.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Toby asked dryly as he pulled a black jumper over his shirt. Marcus had just dragged him out of bed to see the newspaper headline, and dusk was still a couple of hours away. “He was certainly not asleep when we killed him. We left him on the floor, his eyes wide open.”

“Was that too disrespectful?” Oliver questioned.

Many of the Watch, including Lukas, rolled their eyes. “I don’t think the government cares whether we kill them respectfully or not,” said Lucy. “But there has to be a reason why they’re lying about the way he was killed.”

“It isn’t just that, either,” Oliver replied. “The paper says that he was stabbed through the heart.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Toby argued, although he knew it was pointless arguing with a printed paper. The words would not change at his command.

“I still have the blood on my coat to prove it,” Oliver added.

“It isn’t me, nor the Watch, that needs convincing,” Lukas stated, silencing the slowly growing volume of chatter in the small room. “Whether you stabbed him through the heart or slit his throat, we don’t care, as long as he’s dead. I’m sorry to hear that he gave you little information regarding the night of Jack’s death, but maybe the government will get their hands on some evidence and publish any information they find.”

“And lie about it, like they have with this?” Lucy demanded. “We should go back to the house and search it ourselves.”

“You risk running into Dark Keepers and other government officials,” Lukas pointed out. “I don’t doubt that they will be quick to search the house as well.”

“We risk running into Dark Keepers every time we venture outside at night,” Lucy countered coldly. Lukas acknowledged with a regal nod of his head. Lucy turned to address the rest of the Watch. “Is there anyone willing to accompany me to Prendergast’s home to search for evidence?”

“I’ll go,” Jason said. “We are both small and discreet. We don’t need to draw attention to ourselves.”

Toby caught the slight, amused curling of Lukas’ mouth, but the action was so small that he doubted anyone else saw it. He wondered whether Lukas found it funny that anyone could consider Lucy ‘small and discreet’ or whether the whole idea of searching Prendergast’s house seemed ridiculous to him. If it was the latter, Toby had to agree. Whatever Prendergast was doing that required the guard of the Dark Keepers, he could no longer continue it.

“You may both do as you please,” Lukas said, still sounding cool and collected, as always. “Dedication is always appreciated.”

Lucy nodded at him as though in thanks. She and Jason headed for the back rooms to prepare, dress in in the usual black clothes and grey coats, apply their signature war-paint and cover the lower halves of their faces in silk scarves. Lucy held Toby’s gaze as they passed him, like she were daring him to explain why he had not offered to accompany her. He tried to keep his expression passive, but the sheepish tilt to his mouth was too difficult to cover. He knew Lukas had other plans for him this night anyway, though Toby intended to talk himself out of it.

“I have no plans tonight,” Lukas announced to the rest of the Watch. “After Prendergast’s death, the government will be in search of Night Wanderers. You may patrol the city if you like, but the last thing I want is to risk your lives unnecessarily. You have an hour, maybe two, to get home before dusk falls, or you can sleep here.”

It was a moment before anyone moved. Lukas never gave them a night off, not even after a comrade was killed. Toby was just as surprised as the others, but he guessed Lukas’ reasoning.

Marcus subconsciously cracked his huge knuckles and dragged Alex by the elbow after Lucy and Jason to disguise themselves. Alex looked less than pleased at being forced to work when the opportunity of a free night was there, but Marcus was one of the few of them that loved his job. He had been known to purposefully pick fights with the Dark Keepers, but that was before their guns got bigger and more accurate. Oliver offered to walk Hannah home and the pair of them left before they could be dragged back into work. Lukas looked up once they left, meeting Toby’s steady gaze.

“Need I ask what bothers you?” he inquired lightly.

“I can’t go back to that apartment.” Toby launched straight into it. He did not want to be persuaded otherwise. Lukas opened his mouth to argue, but Toby ploughed on. “My rent was being paid for by the Academy, and once I stopped turning up, the payments will have stopped. Someone else will be living there.”

“You are right, someone else is living there. But the apartment is still in your name.”

“How can that be possible?” Toby asked with a scoff.

“Elsa has been living there for the past eight months.”

Toby felt the blood drain from his face. He wanted to return even less. “How could you know that?”

“She took your disappearance badly, Toby. She has been living there waiting for you to come back. Since there was no proof that you died, despite what everyone said, she never believed it. I have been keeping an eye on her.”

“Why did you not tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

Toby ran his hand anxiously through his hair. He began pacing, the limp in his leg reduced to little more than an annoyance. Lukas watched him passively, sitting absolutely still while he let Toby calm down enough to talk.

“I can’t go,” Toby said finally. “If I don’t scare her to death, she will hate me, and then I will have nowhere to live. If she screams, it will attract the attention of the guard and then not only will I have to run for my life, but it’s likely that the city will realise that I might not actually be dead.”

“Tobias.” Lukas adopted the firm tone that showed his impending impatience. Toby quietened. “I ask you to return to Elsa now because the Dark Keepers are interested in recruiting her.” This shocked Toby. Lukas continued before he could say anything. “I fear she may join them if she is given no incentive not to.”

“And my return will be the incentive?” The conversation just kept getting worse. The thought of the Dark Keepers sniffing around Elsa made him feel sick. “What would they want with her anyway?”

Lukas sighed softly. “Did you ever really believe that the Academy was set up for the benefit of the young people of this city?” he asked quietly. “Have you heard of a student that has graduated to go on to do anything other than join the guard?”

Toby suddenly understood what Lukas was saying. “The Academy was designed to train Dark Keepers?”

Lukas nodded gravely. “I grabbed you when I did because I needed someone with intelligence on the Academy. Elsa is a remarkably wise individual and I would much rather her to be on the side of the Night Wanderers, both for your benefit and mine-”

“She won’t be a Night Wanderer. I won’t let you recruit her,” Toby interrupted sharply.

“I don’t need to recruit her, Toby,” Lukas answered patiently. “If she knows you’re alive, she won’t need to be recruited in order to be on side.” He looked straight at Toby, his bright blue eyes piercing Toby’s brown ones. “If you don’t return to her, you will lose her to the Dark Keepers.”

    

Two and a half hours later, Toby stalked through the alleyways back towards his old apartment, his face masked in the scarf and war-paint. He preferred to travel on the roofs of the towers, but tonight was not a night to risk detection. The alleys provided a safer cover from the helicopters whirring overhead, their spotlights brushing dangerously close to him, but he barely noticed them.

He stopped immediately, a scrape against the concrete ground alerting him to someone close by. No matter how distracted his mind was, his senses were always on focused on his surroundings. Toby drew back against the wall, waiting for a guard to emerge from an adjacent alley. No one did. He waited, listening to the silence, for at least a minute before he decided it was safe. He continued at a run.

His foot caught on something solid and Toby fell straight to the ground, barely getting his hands down to prevent hitting his head. It took him less than a second to organise his limbs and jump straight back up, drawing a knife as he did so.

Simon Blakewell stepped into view, dressed in the traditional red shirt and brown military jacket. He, like Toby, wore a thick weapons belt, but instead of the assortment of shiny silver knives, he carried a large gun on one side and a long sword on the other. The young men faced each other, ten feet apart. Toby held the knife tightly by his side, while Simon’s weapons remained in his belt. Toby wondered, vaguely, whether the Keeper recognised him through the disguise.

After several moments of silence and stillness, Toby threw his arms wide. “Shoot if you’re going to.”

Slowly, Simon shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’d much rather watch your kind suffer.”

The statement confused Toby, but he had no desire to question it. Keeping his eyes on the Dark Keeper for any sign of his reaching for the gun, he sheathed the knife and continued down the alley. There were no shouts or gunshots. Simon had not wanted to kill him, because he was a Night Wanderer. But that did not explain how it would lead him to suffer.

He slowed back to a walk as he approached his tower building, his eyes floating automatically to the floor of his apartment. If Lukas was right in thinking that Elsa was living there, would she allow him back into her life? Toby had no doubt that keeping Elsa away from the Dark Keepers was Lukas’ main goal, but he had also mentioned that he needed to integrate back into society. Not only did he have to tell Elsa the truth of his whereabouts for the past year and pray that she would understand, if not forgive, but he would have to lie convincingly to his family and friends of the life before the Night Wanderers.

Toby stopped between his tower and the next, looking out at the street he had not seen for nearly a year. It was completely devoid of the life he remembered it to have; the ponies and carts full of fresh produce, the paperboys waving newspapers under people’s noses, the workmen headed for the mines out in the favelas. There was none of that now, in the dark, other than the shadows of Dark Keepers patrolling the streets. Toby’s apartment looked out onto the street, but he could not risk climbing the front of the building where men would be more likely to see him. Instead he climbed the wall facing the alley, where the shadow would hide him for the majority of his ascent. The climb was slowed by the damaged muscle on his lower leg, which no longer hurt him but he did not yet trust it to hold his weight completely.

He spent less than a minute scaling sideways across the wall facing the street before he located his window. Toby forced his rising anxiety and fear back down as he pushed the window silently open. There had been no need to fear thieves when the city was built. Night Wanderers never stole, but propaganda said otherwise.

Toby ducked through the window, quietly closing it behind him, and was immediately hit with a strong wave of nostalgia. The room looked exactly as it had when he had left it. A shirt of his still lay across the back of the sofa, and the ornamental pinecones sat on the kitchen counter from the last time Jake had moved them. Toby paced towards his shirt and picked it up. It was checked blue and made from cotton, very unlike the black and grey clothes he wore now.

“Get out.”

Toby’s head snapped up. Elsa stood in the doorway to his bedroom, dressed in her night clothes. Her face was hostile but guarded, and she held a knife in her right hand, the tip pointed towards him. His grip on the shirt tightened, as did the constriction on his heart. She had changed, aged too much in the past year. The skin around her eyes had tightened. But she was still beautiful, still his Elsa.

“Did you hear me? Get out.” She jerked the knife at him threateningly.

He took a breath to prepare himself for her reaction before slowly bringing the scarf down from his face and pushing the hood down off his head. Elsa’s eyes widened, her mouth opened as her breath caught in shock, and the knife clattered to the floor.

 

*   *   *

 

“Toby, are you listening?”

Toby looked round lazily to meet Jake’s amused gaze across the table. His plate was empty, almost to the point it had been licked clean, while Toby’s was still half full. Next to him, Finn tapped irritably on the table top.

“What was I supposed to be listening to?” Toby asked.

Jake rolled his eyes. Finn answered in a low voice, “There are rumours that the Night Wanderers are planning another attack on the Dark Keepers.”

A little twinge of excitement stirred in Toby’s chest, but his expression did not change. “Good luck to them.” He started pushing his food around his plate absent-mindedly, his attention drifting back to the waitress, who was busily wiping down tables as customers began to leave the restaurant. “Why are you worrying about it?”

“We aren’t worrying,” Jake argued. “I thought you might be interested.”

Toby narrowed his eyes at him. “Why would I be interested?”

Finn leant forward and lowered his voice further. Toby mirrored him in order to hear his next words. “The Dark Keepers have been murdering civilians for over twenty years, just for being outside after dark. Now that people are beginning to fight back, shouldn’t we all be interested?” Toby remained quiet, feeling scolded. “Jake mentioned that you stood up for a Night Wanderer in front of a Dark Keeper the other day.”

“There was no reason to suspect he was a Night Wanderer,” Toby argued, although he knew he was lying. “I was protecting a customer, that’s all.”

“Elsa was impressed with you,” Jake added.

Toby could not help the next sentences that escaped his tongue. “I can’t imagine she’s very impressed with you right now. You haven’t looked at her once since you’ve been here.”

Jake frowned. “She’s working.”

Toby glanced over Jake’s shoulder at the waitress again. Elsa smiled at him as she met his gaze, but it was a tired smile. He wondered whether she had been working all day, and dusk was not far off. He wished there was something he could do to help her. “Perhaps you should offer to stay and help her,” he suggested to Jake, trying to keep his voice uncaring.

Jake shook his head, sanded his hands together and pushed away from the table. “I want to get home before dark.”

“Dusk is over an hour away,” Toby pointed out, furious at Jake’s selfishness.

“And I value my body with holes in it,” he countered. “Are you coming or not?”

Toby stared down at his half-eaten meal. “I’ll go when I’m done.” Jake shrugged and dropped a note on the table to pay for his food. Finn followed suit, giving Toby a brotherly pat on the shoulder as he passed. As oblivious as Jake was to Toby’s feelings towards Elsa, they had not escaped Finn’s notice.

Whilst he ate a few more mouthfuls of his meal, now cold, he watched as the restaurant’s manager approached Elsa. She was a stern-faced woman from the Suburban District with little or no care for any of her employees. It was just unfortunate that Elsa was the only one there at the time.

“I need you to take care of ze restaurant for ze last hour,” she said to Elsa, speaking with a French accent that Toby did not quite believe was genuine. “I need to go ‘ome before my ‘usband returns.”

“An hour?” Elsa repeated. “But it will be dark by then.”

The manager shrugged. “You can sleep ‘ere if you need to.” She swept out of the building before Elsa had a chance to argue. Toby and a romantically involved couple were the last customers in the restaurant, with only Elsa to manage them. Toby left his plate and bravely approached her.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, aware that she could refuse his help and send him away. He was not sure whether his pride could cope with that, but he could not leave her to sleep on cot that was little better than the floor, as he had experienced himself many times. She glanced up from the countertop, wiping it down with such vigour that the top layer of wax should have come up with the dust.

“I just need you and those two to leave so I can clean up and lock up,” she answered, her voice cool, but Toby could hear the slight tremor behind the words. He looked over his shoulder towards the couple, who were just leaving, and thought that the day seemed to be ending rather quickly.

“Listen, if you let me help you-”

“No, the last thing I need on my conscience is having you outside after dark,” Elsa said with finality. “I can sleep here. I can be safe.”

“But uncomfortable,” Toby pointed out. “I’ve spent my share of nights at the café, and they are unpleasant enough to send me outside to race the night.” This drew a reluctant smile to Elsa’s face.

“You make it sound exciting,” she mumbled.

Toby grinned. “If you let me help you, we can clean the place in half the time and I can walk you home. You won’t even see the sun hit the horizon, I promise you.”

“That’s one hell of a promise.” She threw her cloth over to him. “If you can wipe down the tables and sweep the floor, I can deal with the kitchen.”

Toby set to work, collecting plates from the tables as well as payments from customers that left a short time ago, before he set about wiping crumbs from tables onto the floor, leaving the tops gleaming. Cleaning the café in a hurry for at least two years had left him a quick and efficient worker and the restaurant floor was swept and mopped in less than half an hour. Elsa reappeared from the kitchen, changed out of her work clothes, and seemed stunned by Toby’s work.

“I should ask you to help me every week,” she said, beaming up at him. The smile faded as she glanced outside, where the sky was beginning to turn pale red. “How long do we have?”

Toby guessed, “Half an hour, maybe.” He looked down at her and grinned. “Let’s race the night.”

Race the night they did, racing each other as they went. Toby’s playfulness eased Elsa’s worries of the forbidden night and she led him straight to her home on the outskirts of the Suburban District, a small townhouse in which the electricity had already been switched off. Toby guessed she still lived with her parents, who would either expect her to stay at the restaurant or would be awake, waiting for her. Toby looked to the west, where the sun still hovered.

“I told you,” he said through panting breaths, pointing.

Elsa laughed and threw her arms around his neck. Toby, taken completely by surprise, held her awkwardly. “I owe you one,” she said, and leant back to kiss his cheek. For the first time in his life, Toby hoped it was dark enough to hide his blush. He waited at the steps to her home until she disappeared inside, wanting to be completely sure she was safe. He then turned and bolted down the street, into the Tower District, heading for home. He had less than twenty minutes.

5: 5 - Recruited

Toby was not fast enough. He could see his building, at the end of the street, but he could also see shadows of Dark Keepers emerging from buildings, large guns in their belts. The last of the sunlight flickered out existence behind the horizon and Toby darted into the closest alleyway. The shadows cast by the tall walls made it even darker, making the stars above him seem to shine more brightly.

Toby’s heart raced and his breath came in short, sharp gasps. It would be safer to navigate the alleys from here, but he had never been through them before, let alone in the dark. Besides, if a helicopter flew over, he would be seen in the spotlights. He had as good a chance as any by running the rest of the way down the road and trust in the inaccuracy of the guard’s aim.

Just as he was about to jump out of the alley and make a sprint for home, two pairs of hands grabbed him. Both his elbows were pulled painfully behind his back and his mouth was covered as he took a breath to yell out. He was pulled back, deeper into the alley. His screams muffled by the grasp of one of his captors, Toby kicked out and struggled against them, but to no avail. They were too strong. Pain flared in his shoulders.

“If you don’t stop screaming, you will alert the Guard,” said the figure on his left, the one with his hand covering Toby’s mouth. “We both know they won’t help you.”

Toby fell silent, but his breath still rasped loudly. He managed to strike one of them in the knee with a kick. He cursed under his breath and Toby slipped out of his grasp. He used his free arm to punch the other, who grunted in surprise. He had a split second of freedom before torchlight filled the area. They were at a crossroads where four alleys met at right angles.

Six people surrounded him in a loose circle, all wearing identical long, grey, hooded coats, and black silk scarfs across the lower halves of their faces. Their eyes were all in shadow. Standing inside the circle was a man, a few years older than Toby. Unlike the others, who stood as though preparing to run away at a second’s notice, he stood perfectly straight. His hood was down, his face uncovered, though he wore the same coat as the others. A torch flamed in his left hand. They were too far into the labyrinth of alleys for the guard to see the light from the road.

“He’s a little scrawnier than I’d hoped,” the man with the torch announced, like Toby could not hear him. His voice was strong and clear, without the hint of wariness that the others had. It was also faintly familiar, though Toby was too busy trying to think of a way out of this mess to focus on this.

“He’s strong for a scholar,” an accomplice muttered, Toby presumed the one he hit. Other than the variation in height, they were almost impossible to tell apart.

“Then perhaps he will fill out a little.” Toby stopped looking for an escape route, knowing there was none other than to scale the walls upwards, and he was certain these men could climb much faster than he. He focused on the man standing in the centre of the pool of orange light, his hair glinting gold. “Tell me, Tobias, will you listen to my proposition without interruption?”

Toby was breathing heavily and found the question strangely polite. He almost laughed. “What if I don’t like what you have to say?”

“Then you may walk away and forget this ever happened. We will even walk you safely home.” The man spoke sincerely, yet his face remained unreadable. Toby stared at him, trying to find some flaw in the promise, a loophole, or any sign that he was lying. He found none.

“I’ll listen,” he answered reluctantly.

The golden-haired man smiled slightly. “I’m glad. But first I must make sure you aren’t one of the Guard, a Dark Keeper disguised as an unfortunate civilian caught outside after nightfall designed to lure us from our dens. How can I be sure you won’t win our trust before killing us?”

“I have never killed anybody,” Toby answered honestly. “My war is also with the Dark Keepers.”

“I’m sure. But how can I be certain? How can I put my mind completely at rest before I reveal the true secrets of our work? Of course,” he continued before Toby could come up with an answer, “if you are a Dark Keeper, we will have no choice but to kill you, as you have already seen my face and I can’t risk you identifying me as a Night Wanderer at a later date.”

This put pressure on Toby’s answer, and he knew it had been done on purpose. Instead of frightening him, it gave him confidence. He spread his arms as though in invitation. “No one knows I’m here. Feel free to search me for any weapon or communication device; you will find none.”

The leader nodded at the figure flanking his right. As he approached, Toby properly noticed the sheer size of him; broad shoulders leading to massive arms. He stood at least a foot above Toby, staring down through the shadow of his hood. He was close enough now to see the jagged blue patterns of paint disguising the upper half of his face, framing a large pair of muddy-brown eyes.

“Don’t hurt him, Marcus.” It was a female voice that spoke, much to Toby’s surprise, but he could not tell which of the figures it was.

“We could always strip-search him,” said another, male, young and mischievous.

“Quiet.” Although he did not raise his voice, the command silenced everyone immediately. The leader gave another nod in Marcus’ direction. “Get on with it. If he’s a Dark Keeper, I want it dealt with quickly.”

Marcus stared down at Toby. “Open your shirt.”

“I beg your pardon?” Toby answered.

“Just do it,” Marcus said coldly. “If you have nothing to hide, as you claim, then you shouldn’t have any problem with it. Do you have anything to hide, Tobias?”

“I don’t have anything to hide,” Toby replied, trying to match the stony, defiant tone.

“Nothing but that skinny chest of his.” The mischievous voice piped up again.

“Jack,” another scolded him, one that had not yet spoken.

Reluctantly, Toby undid the buttons down the front of his shirt, knowing that he was making himself vulnerable to attack. But he also knew that a cotton shirt would do little in the way of protection if one of them decided to stab him. Marcus lifted both sides of his shirt, examining the lining in search of some threatening object. There was none, obviously.

Marcus continued to pat him down, searching for weapons or communication devices. By the time he was done, there was not one part of Toby’s body that had not been checked and he was humiliated in front of the group of anonymous strangers.

“Satisfied?” he snapped at the leader when Marcus finally stepped back.

“We have to be sure,” he replied calmly. “I’m certain now that you aren’t a member of the Guard. But there’s always the chance that you will betray us to them at a later date. I know you won’t do this, but how do I know, Tobias?”

Toby felt as though he were sitting an exam. Although he did not have a blade held to his throat, he could see the glints of silver in their belts and he felt threatened. “My guess is that none of you will reveal your identity to me unless I agree to join you. By then I will be putting my own life on the line by betraying you.”

“Very good.” The leader looked almost impressed. “Will you join us, Tobias?” Toby hesitated. “You have already said that your war is also with the Guard.”

“Everyone in the city is at war with the Guard,” Toby pointed out.

“And barely any of them brave enough to do anything about it,” said the female voice. Toby suspected it came from the slight figure between Marcus and Jack. “Why do you want him anyway, Lukas? He’s a scholar. Look at him: he hasn’t had any physical training.”

“A scholar is exactly what we need,” the leader – Lukas – answered her coolly. “We can train him when the time comes, but in the meantime we need someone with information on the Academy.”

“Why?” Toby asked.

Lukas’ eyes hardened slightly, but his voice remained calm. “The people you see here make up only a fraction of the Night Wanderers. Other Watches scatter the city; we don’t know them and they don’t know us. Information is kept safer this way. There are many, many of us with talent for scaling buildings, bringing down their war machines, assassinating government officials. We have come to a…tricky situation in which brains outmatch brawn, and we have a limit on the former.” Marcus snorted quietly. Lukas pretended not to hear.

“So this has nothing to do with wanting a spy in the Academy?”

“The time may come for that, but that is not my reason for wanting you on side right now.”

Still Toby could not make his decision. Being a Night Wanderer would become a way of life, a secret he would have to hide from everyone he knew whilst trying to continue his study.

“Must this decision be made immediately?” he asked Lukas.

Lukas smiled a small smile, his mouth curling fractionally at the corners. “You have three days. Oliver?” A figure behind Toby stepped forward. Lukas handed him the flaming torch. “Take him home.”

Oliver. Toby knew that name, and recognised the eyes that peered at him over the top of the scarf, despite the disguising patterns of paint.

“Three days,” Lukas repeated emphatically, before he and his men – and woman – swept away into the alleys, fading into the dark with no light to guide them. Oliver’s eyes twinkled as he watched Toby’s awed gaze.

“I don’t know how to get home from here,” Toby admitted, buttoning up his shirt.

“I do,” Oliver answered cheerfully. “This way.” He led the way down the alley to the right, the torch flames illuminating the black stone walls in warm orange light. The Night Wanderer had quick, long paces that Toby had trouble to keep up with. The contrast between the rebel in the grey coat and the young man he had protected in the café three days ago was astounding. Apart from the stains on his skin, there was nothing to betray Oliver’s secret. Now he walked with his shoulders down, his knees slightly bent, making him look like a big cat on the prowl.

“Why does Lukas want me to join?” Toby asked. Although his voice was little more than a murmur, it echoed loudly off the surrounding stone.

Oliver glanced back at him. “We need documents decrypted, and no one in our Watch knows how to. We’ve been looking for someone from the Academy for the past three weeks with no luck.”

“Surely you need someone with experience in fighting as well as coding?”

“I wasn’t spying on you when I came into your café, Toby. But the selflessness and bravery it took to turn against the Guard in a public area is exactly what the Night Wanderers need. You essentially put your life on the line to protect me, who you didn’t know from Adam.”

Toby thought about mentioning the fact that he had been more concerned about the state of the café’s interior than the ongoing feud between the Guard and the Night Wanderers, but decided against it. He was tempted by Lukas’ offer. He was sick of the oppressive nature of the government, of the contemptuous looks the Dark Keepers gave the rest of the citizens, and above all, the killings. He wanted change, but he felt it was unfair to expect other people to risk their lives for it.

Oliver stopped and indicated the wall on the left with an inclination of his head. “I believe this is your building. If you move slowly enough, the Dark Keepers won’t see you. When it’s this dark, they rely on movement to spot us.”

The alley looked out onto the main road and Toby noticed that Oliver held the torch flame around the corner, hidden.

“I’m not supposed to show preference,” Oliver went on, “but I hope you join us.”

He dropped the torch into a puddle, dousing it and plunging the alley into complete blackness.

 

*   *   *

 

Across the room, Elsa stared. Tears glistened in her beautiful green eyes, threatening to spill down her face. Toby watched her warily, uncertain as to whether she would shout at him, burst into tears, or run into his arms. He hoped for the latter, but she did none of these things. She ran at him, but her hardened expression and bared teeth in preparation to yell sent him stumbling back a few steps. She looked scarier than Lucy in that moment.

She ran into his chest, pounding him with her fists. It did not particularly hurt, but it pained him to see her so furious. “How dare you disappear without a word and come back a year later with no warning!” she screamed. She would wake up everyone in the building, Toby thought, and he did not want that just now. He had to keep a low profile in the meantime. “Was I supposed to fall into your arms? Is that what you expected?”

“Is this where you’ve been? With the Night Wanderers? With Lukas?”

“I had to leave the public eye-”

Toby took hold of her wrists to stop her hitting him. Her cheeks were wet with angry tears. He did not want to remind her why he had to go into hiding, but he had no choice right now. She had to stop shouting, or he risked the neighbours coming to see the source of the noise.

“I had to leave because I killed a woman,” he murmured to her. “There was a chance someone saw me.”

“They didn’t,” Elsa spat. “The murder was labelled suspicious, but there was no report of any suspect.” Toby bit back a retort that lingered on the tip of his tongue; he had stabbed her with a knife, so there was little else the death could have been but suspicious.

“How could I have known this?” Toby asked coolly.

“It was in the paper. The government is desperate to identify the Night Wanderers, so if they had any idea it was you, it would have been reported. Don’t lie and tell me Lukas doesn’t check the paper, because I know he does.” She had a valid point, but Toby did not want to admit it. He felt guilty enough as it was without her pointing out more of his wrongs. “I hate you for what you’ve done.”

He stiffened all over. She must have felt it, because she looked almost remorseful. Toby released her wrists and stalked past her towards the bathroom, shrugging off his coat as he went and leaving it heaped on the floor, along with his scarf.

“Where are you going?” Elsa asked, her voice a more acceptable level.

“To wash,” Toby answered shortly before closing the bathroom door between them. His eyes burned with the tears he refused to shed as he heated the water and ran it into the bathtub. I hate you. He stripped off his clothes and stepped into the warm water. It had been so long since he had washed in a bathtub; Jason had tapped into the water pipe that ran beside the bathroom to create a number of showers at the outpost. He almost felt nostalgic, but his anger shadowed it.

Sitting in the water relaxed him, banished his anger to make way for the hurt underneath. He had been afraid of her reaction, had expected anger, but he never considered the possibility that she could hate him.

He washed himself down with the bar of soap on the side table, cleaning the shallow cuts on his hands he had gained from climbing the building. He noticed now, as he ran the soap along the lines of his arms and legs, how much his body had changed since he had last seen Elsa. Months of climbing tower buildings had broadened his shoulders and strengthened his arms. Free-running had left his legs laced with a thicker layer of muscle, and combat training had given the muscles in his abdomen prominence. Not only this, but his hair had grown longer and darker, his skin paler from lack of sunlight. It was a miracle she had recognised him at all, he thought on reflection.

Toby submerged to wash the paint off his face. It peeled off in clusters, decorating the water in what looked like blue snowflakes. He watched them from beneath the surface of the water as they bobbed about, evidence of his night-time endeavours. The remaining paint he scrubbed off with the flannel, before washing that out in the bathtub. Not wanting to put his dark clothes back on, he settled for tying a towel about his waist when he left the bathroom. Elsa had seen him wearing less.

She was sitting on the sofa when he emerged into the living room, staring down at her twined hands. She looked up when she heard Toby’s soft steps on the carpet, her eyes immediately drawn to the gash on his calf. She looked shocked.

“What happened?” she asked, sounding for a moment like she used to. Her voice was hoarse from the shouting, but the melodic, sweet tone was audible and almost made Toby relax. Her earlier words still rang in his ears nevertheless.

“I’ve had worse,” he answered bluntly, heading for his bedroom. Elsa intercepted him before he reached the door; he had forgotten how light on her feet she was. She placed her hands on his shoulders to prevent him striding right past her, suddenly all business-like.

“Let me bind it. I’m sure I saw some antiseptic cream in your bathroom somewhere, this is so prone to infection-”

Her touch, now that she was no longer hitting him, drove all of his anger and hurt away. He wrapped one arm around her middle, drawing her to him, and used his other hand to tilt her chin up. His kiss was rough and uninvited, and he felt Elsa tense against him. He was unsure whether she was angry or just surprised.

Toby was quick to step back. “Forgive me,” he mumbled, and sidestepped her into the bedroom. He almost convinced himself she looked disappointed. He dressed in a black button-down shirt and a pair of navy jeans, clothes that were tighter than he remembered. Water dripped from the ends of his hair, dampening his shoulders and back. Elsa remained standing where he had left her when he came back into the living room, her expression blank. Her anger had been difficult to see, but being uncertain of how she was feeling was worse.

“You can go back to bed if you like. I’ll sleep out here,” he said gruffly, embarrassed.

She nodded once, not looking at him, and disappeared into the bedroom. Toby stared at the door, feeling inadequate. There was nothing he could do or say that could make this better, to take their relationship back to how it had been before.

He lay on the sofa, his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He had not slept at night for the past year, and now he could not reach it. His mind was too full of thought to even think about resting.

The buzzer rang. Toby leant up and frowned at the door. It buzzed again, and again, urgently. Hesitantly, he stood and went over to it, noticing Elsa peeking through the gap in the slightly open door.

“Yes?” he asked, pressing the button allowing him to speak to the visitor. He jumped back immediately, suddenly remembering the rather important fact that he had been missing for the past year, and no one should be expecting his voice.

“It’s me. Let me up.” Lucy’s voice allowed a brief moment of relief, before he tensed again. Having Lucy in close proximity to Elsa was not something he wanted. There was nothing he could do except press the button to unlock the door. He paced while he waited for her to arrive, anxiety churning his stomach. He had not been back much more than an hour and yet he was being called on.

Toby heard Lucy approach outside and opened the door before she had chance to knock. She ducked past his arm and glanced around, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “It’s not quite what I imagined when you said you had your own place.”

“What else were you expecting?” Toby asked coolly. “A mansion in the Governor’s District?”

“I prefer our outpost,” Lucy continued, ignoring him.

“If you’re looking for somewhere to spend the night, I’m afraid I’ve no more room.”

Lucy laughed without humour. “If you two snuggled up, there’d be plenty of room for me on your sofa.” She winked suggestively at the bedroom door, somehow knowing that Elsa was watching. “Anyway, I’m not staying, and neither are you.”

“Excuse me?” Toby asked.

“Lukas wants you back immediately. He’s had a message from Samuel that requires our attention.”

Although this sparked Toby’s interest, he was reluctant to leave so quickly. “I thought you were snooping around Prendergast’s house. How did Lukas get the message to you so quickly?”

“It arrived before Jason and I had chance to leave,” she muttered angrily. “This is more important, apparently. Just come with me, we don’t have much time before Lukas gets angry.”

“Give me an hour.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “You’re keeping Lukas waiting, not me.” She stuffed a piece of note paper into his hand and stalked back out of the apartment, her grey coat swooping behind her.

Toby kicked the door closed behind her, unfolding the note. His eyes skimmed over it twice before he dropped it on the table close by and went to change back into his dark clothes. Elsa appeared, ignored him completely, and made straight for the note. She read through multiple times.

“It’s encrypted,” Toby told her when he emerged, and she was still looking at the paper.

“A raid?” she demanded. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Toby felt silly. Elsa had been in the same classes as he at the Academy, and she now had an extra year of tuition over him. Of course she could decrypt the message without too much difficulty.

“It doesn’t involve anything extreme,” he said, trying to reassure her while he tied his boots back onto his feet. “It’s a scare more than anything.”

“It sounds extreme,” Elsa commented. “Will you come back with more bullet wounds?”

“If I come back at all,” Toby answered, and immediately regretted it. She looked truly hurt, but he could not find any words to rectify it. He sat on the windowsill and swung his legs out. “If you’ll have me back, I will be.” When she said nothing, he pulled up his hood and covered his nose with the scarf. He had no time to apply the paint.

6: 6 - A Necessary Murder

“Forgive me for calling you away from Elsa so soon, Toby.” If Lukas had not sounded so excited, Toby could have believed he was sincerely apologetic. As it was, Lukas seemed to be almost vibrating with anticipation. Toby had sprinted back to the outpost, assuming Lukas was eager to get going. Alex and Marcus had gone scouting before Samuel’s message arrived, and Lucy was out searching for them. Oliver and Hannah had dragged themselves back before Toby arrived, and Jason sat examining some plans that had been attached to the message.

“What’s the purpose of the raid this time?” Toby asked, the question directed at Jason. Lukas answered.

“It won’t be long before we attack the Castle,” he said. “This is a scare. We want the entire city, government and citizens included, to be disoriented, frightened. We need to prove ourselves to be powerful, powerful in a way they don’t expect.”

“How do you propose we express this power?” Oliver asked carefully.

Lukas’ eyes gleamed. “Samuel wants us to kill. We need to weaken the Guard before we can think of attacking the government at its source. He hasn’t given me any direct instructions, but I want to set fires, cause disruption and fear. I want no civilian hurt, under any circumstance, but we need to make ourselves noticed. We need to be taken seriously.”

“Fighting them head-on won’t instil fear,” Toby argued. “Moving behind the shadows with our work seen while we aren’t sends a better message than attacking them like an army. We are meant to be ghosts, not mercenaries.”

“You can’t put a bullet through a ghost,” Oliver commented in agreement.

“They managed to get one through Toby,” Hannah pointed out. “But I agree with him. I don’t understand how attacking them the way they have been attacking civilians will help our cause.”

“Ghosting is doing little in the way of getting our message across,” Lukas pointed out. “Night is still forbidden, civilians are still being killed. But I understand your words, and this is why I want Toby to infiltrate the Castle.”

Toby’s mouth nearly fell open in surprise. “Alone?”

“Yes. I don’t want you to do anything, except allow them to sight you in doorways, through windows. While the rest of us, including the other Watches, cause havoc outside, I need you to make them believe that the Castle itself is under threat. Steal objects of value, threaten those inside. Anything to make them feel insecure.”

“And you think I can come out of this alive?” Toby challenged.

Lukas leant over his desk and stared up at Toby, his bright eyes sincere. “You’re the only one that can. Because you now have something – someone – to live for.”

What convenient timing, Toby thought, but dared not say it aloud.

Lukas sat back in his chair. “Go and apply the war paint. You’ll need it.” Toby did as he was told and applied a new layer of paint, careful not to trace the stained lines that were already there. He was just reaching for his coat when the door swung open and Lucy almost fell through it.

“I heard Lukas saying he’s sending you into the Castle,” she said hurriedly.

Toby shrugged on his coat. “I think I’ll be safer than the rest of you. The entire Guard will be outside.”

“I’m not so sure,” Lucy responded. She looked unusually on edge. “The Governor and his family must have some sort of private guard, something to keep them completely safe from any kind of attack, whether from the likes of us or an external raid.”

“What makes you think that?” Toby tied his scarf around his neck, most of it hidden under the collar of his coat. The paint on his face was still too wet for the scarf to cover it.

“Have you never wondered why we’ve never launched an attack like this before?” she asked. “The Night Wanderers is a vast guild that extends across the entire city. What Samuel has organised could easily allow us to distract the Guard on the outside and infiltrate the Castle. But why hasn’t he organised that? Instead all we’re doing is scaring them.” She scuffed the floor with the sole of her boot moodily. “Whatever they’re trying to hide will disappear further into the unknown.”

“What makes you think they’re hiding something?” Toby asked sceptically.

Lucy stepped closer. “It’s just a feeling. Nothing else makes sense.” She lifted a hand to play with the collar of his coat. “They will protect their citizens with all the power they have during the day, but the moment night falls…” The edge of her finger caught the edge of his jaw. “They’re hiding something, I’m sure. Something they either examine or experiment with during the night, something they cannot risk anyone seeing.”

Toby had begun to lose track of what she was saying, particularly when their skin connected for the briefest of seconds. He shook his head to clear it and she dropped her hand. “I’ve never noticed the Guard protecting citizens before.”

“Other Watches have tried keeping hostages. It gives us a decent amount of payment, but we get nothing achieved in the long run, so it rarely happens now.” Lucy gazed up at him, letting her usual guard down just slightly. She was still impossible to read, but she no longer looked as though she were hungry for the blood of her enemies.

She stood up on her toes so that her face was an inch from Toby’s. Her breath was hot and soft on his ear. He thought she would kiss him, and this time he had no intention of pushing her away.

“See what I can do to you, Toby, and we’re not even touching,” she murmured, sending his blood racing. “Even now, when you have Elsa back and I’m not needed.” She inched closer, so close that he could feel her lips moving at the corner of his mouth. “What happened, Toby? Did she not run into your arms like you wanted?” Despite her cruel teasing, it only made Toby want Lucy more. She had been his source of comfort for the past year and now he had been handed back to Elsa and been, for all intents and purposes, rejected. He wanted – needed – Lucy’s comfort more than ever. He turned his head the distance to kiss her, but she moved back just far enough so that their lips could not touch. Her smile was teasing when he scowled in frustration.

“Oh- I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I was intruding.”

Toby jerked back and turned his head away, staring purposefully in the other direction. Lucy landed back on her heels, turned and swept away. Oliver watched her go as she stepped past him, then turned to Toby.

“Don’t you dare say anything to Elsa,” Toby said threateningly.

“When am I going to see her, Toby, really?” Oliver pointed out. “But you’ve been sent back to the city now. Lukas said you’ve seen Elsa. Why were you-?”

“I doubt Elsa is interested in accepting me back into her life,” Toby muttered. Oliver raised his brow questioningly. “She said she hated me.”

“And sleeping with Lucy will solve that?”

“I wasn’t going to-”

“No, but only because we have a raid to join.” Oliver patted Toby on the shoulder in a brotherly fashion. “I came in to tell you that Lukas wants you to take Alex with you. Don’t make that face, you’re being trusted with the life of our brother.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t want him with me,” Toby snapped back. “I haven’t been anywhere near the Castle before, I don’t know its layout. I’ll have enough trouble trying to get myself in and out of there alive without revealing my identity. I don’t want to have to babysit as well.”

“It isn’t babysitting,” Oliver scolded him. “Alex needs the experience, and he will be safer with you than he will be with the rest of us. Besides, he won’t be getting into the Castle with you, he’ll be guarding the entrance.”

“Because that’s safe,” Toby mumbled. He had yet to understand any of Lukas’ motives, but had learnt to not question them. He pulled up his hood. “Let’s get going.”

Toby returned to the open room, silently flanked by Oliver, intending to head straight over to the Castle. It would take at least an hour, even over the rooftops. Lukas stopped him before he had taken three steps into the room.

“I need you to survive this, Toby,” he stated. “Losing you would be a real setback.”

“Then why send me inside, if all you want me to do is ghost about and scare the governor and his family?”

“If Samuel wants to raid the Castle next time, we need someone that knows their way around,” Lukas pointed out as though it were obvious. “Make sure you visit every room in that building, because you’ll be drawing up some blueprints for me when you get back. And if you get the chance to assassinate the governor, I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

Toby grabbed a small notepad and tucked it into an inside pocket of his coat in response. He gestured for Alex, now returned from his short scout, to follow him. Marcus sat with his toes tapping impatiently on the floor. Lucy stood in the corner of the room, her hood low over her eyes, but her tension could be felt throughout the room. Lukas sat at his desk, leaning back in his chair, his eyes down on some papers that he neglected to share with the rest of the group. Oliver stood with Hannah and Jason close to Marcus, conferring quietly about tactics. Toby turned away from them and led Alex up the staircase to the surface. Alex, who had prepared his disguise earlier in preparation to scout the city, followed eagerly.

Although he had spent many nights outside, the air this night felt somewhat different. It was similar to the way he felt about night when he first joined the Watch; brittle, on the verge of shattering. Alex, it seemed, did not feel the same. His eyes shone in anticipation above his scarf.

“Don’t fall behind,” Toby warned, before leaping onto the nearest tower wall, exerting all of his pent up frustration, anger and hurt on his climbing. Alex was not nearly as experienced in free running, but he just managed to keep Toby in sight as he followed.

 

*   *   *

 

The following three days of Toby’s life went by both too quickly and too slowly. He barely slept, his nights filled with dreams of shadowy figures in long coats, staring bright blue eyes, and the image of the exploding arrow taking down the helicopter.

Toby sat in his usual seat at the back of the lecture hall, staring at his professor without really hearing any of the words. He had a scroll in front of him covered in a series of letters and numbers, a message written in a code he had not seen before. Again Elsa sat at his side, making notes while the lecturer spoke, pausing every so often to translate some words on her scripture. Toby caught her glancing sideways at him, but he would not meet her gaze. His mind was too full of the Night Wanderers, and he was afraid to drag her into it.

At the end of the class, he was left with a blank sheet of notepaper and a message he had no hope of decrypting. Unlike the other students, who headed for the library for further study, Toby gathered his possessions and headed out. The Academy agreed to pay for his rent as long as he studied there, but he had to spend all of his remaining workday hours as a barista at the café in order to pay for everything else he needed. On the way there, he spotted Oliver, dressed in a pastel-blue jumper. He grinned and winked when he saw that Toby had recognised him, but did not stop or speak.

“You’re late,” his manager hissed as Toby stalked in.

Toby glanced at the clock. “By two minutes,” he muttered back, before ducking into the storeroom to change into his uniform. He took a minute to plaster on a friendly smile and lighten his voice. He could not afford to arouse suspicion from anyone, not even through a change of character.

The smile was dropped almost immediately as he stepped into the café. Two guards, dressed in their standard blood-red jackets, spoke over the counter with his manager. Toby stepped back behind the wall and listened.

“We need to speak with one of your employees. It’s urgent.”

“Why? What’s happened?” the manager asked. “Look, whatever’s happened, I need my workers. I can’t handle the place on my own. Do you realise how difficult it is to find honest employees in this city, thanks to your men?”

“Sir, we understand your predicament. We’re looking for Tobias Cartwright. We only need to speak with him.”

Say no, Toby willed. Please say no.

“Fine. Toby?”

Toby tried to maintain the air of nonchalance as he rounded the corner and faced the two guards. They looked sombre, but not quite hostile upon noticing Toby’s appearance. His manager stormed away to deal tend to customers himself.

They saw me outside after dark, Toby thought. Maybe they saw me with the Night Wanderers. Maybe they want names or descriptions.

“Is there someplace more private we can talk?” asked the guard on the left, a man in his early-thirties. His accomplice looked little older than Toby, which gave the impression that he was an apprentice of sorts.

Although he wanted nothing less than to be alone with the two guards, considering his meeting with the Night Wanderers the previous night, to decline would raise suspicion. Toby nodded and led them through the storeroom and out the door to the back, where the stock was brought in. The alley outside was darkened by the shadow of the walls on either side.

“You needn’t look so concerned, Tobias,” the guard said, but it did nothing to ease Toby’s nerves. He could see the pistols in their belts and was in half a mind that they would shoot him, whatever he said.

“He looks guilty,” said the apprentice, prodding unkindly at Toby’s side.

“Kyle, we aren’t here to find fault where there is none. That isn’t our job.”

Then what is? Toby thought.

“We have received a report of an incident that occurred four days ago,” the guard continued. “It appears that, during one of your work shifts in which you were left solely in charge of the café, one of our guards came in for a drink. He reports that he was harassed by you, discriminated against for being one of the Guard.”

Toby caught himself before he sighed in relief. This had nothing to do with the Night Wanderers. “I was protecting the property. Your guard was threatening another customer and knocking over chairs in the process.”

The apprentice snorted, but the other guard did not. “Yes, we heard about this too. The other customer, it seems, was a Night Wanderer. This made him a threat to the current surroundings, and it was the duty of the guard to deal with the situation accordingly. Night Wanderers are a threat to civilians and the fact that you protected this man makes you suspicious.”

“There was no evidence to suggest that he was a Night Wanderer,” Toby countered. He pushed the memory of the faint blue stains to the back of his mind. “It only seemed to me to be a guard threatening a customer.”

The guard took a step, coming into uncomfortably close proximity to Toby. It was not long ago that Toby would have felt intimidated, but his experience with the Night Wanderers had left the Dark Keepers looking little more than bullies in a playground. “The Guard is here to keep you safe,” he said coldly. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

Toby could not stop the scoff that escaped his lips. The guard’s eyes hardened. Without warning, he struck Toby on the side of his face, splitting the skin over his cheekbone. Toby stumbled back and caught himself on the wall of the café, stunned by the unexpected blow. One bead of blood trickled down his face.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

The guards and Toby glanced up. At the entrance to the alley stood a young woman, no older than twenty, looking both curious and faintly amused by the scene in front of her.

“Be on your way, madam, this does not concern you,” the apprentice said, squaring his shoulders to look important.

The girl’s smirk broadened. “Oh, but it does.” She lunged forwards and time seemed to slow down. Toby watched as she brought out two knives from her belt, hidden beneath a long shirt, and slashed them in a scissoring motion, cutting the guard’s throat. Blood sprayed from the gash in his neck, but the girl dodged to avoid getting any of it on her clothes. The guard stumbled for a moment before he crumpled to the floor. She used the heel of her hand to knock the apprentice’s head back into the wall with enough force to crack his skull. Toby was unsure whether he was dead or not, but he had no time to consider it.

At the entrance to the alley was another guard, his jaw slack as he took in the scene. The girl’s eyes locked onto him and, as he took a breath to call out, she threw one of her knives. It struck the guard dead in the eye, killing him instantly.

“Lucy. Nice to meet you,” the girl said, offering a hand that was dotted with blood. Toby could not find his voice and stared down at her hand, unwilling to take it. She shrugged. “I’m sorry about the mess. It rarely is a clean job.”

“You didn’t have to kill them,” he spluttered eventually.

Her face darkened. “Yes, I did. They would not have stopped until they beat a confession out of you. They wanted to hear that you were a member of the Night Wanderers.”

“You could have knocked them out,” he said, inching back from the bleeding bodies.

“And leave them alive with both our identities in their minds?” she pointed out. “It was necessary. Take my word for it. The city is better off without them anyway.” She hid her remaining knife back in her belt, hidden beneath her clothes. She started towards the alley entrance. “Get out of here before someone finds you with them,” she advised, stooping to yank out the other knife from the guard’s face. Lucy turned and grinned at Toby. “You have two more days.”

With a jolt, Toby realised that she must have been one of the shrouded figures in the alley last night.

 

*   *   *

 

Hidden in the brush less than a hundred metres from the Castle, Toby crouched with Alex at his side. Adrenaline coursed through his veins with the prospect of finally infiltrating the governor’s home. Even if it would do little other than map out the layout of the building for future raids, it felt good to be finally doing something.

“I thought you were angry with Lukas for making you do this,” Alex said in a whisper.

“I was. But now it doesn’t seem so suicidal.” The surrounding guards had raced away from the Castle the moment flames began to flicker from the rooftops and smoke coated the sky. Toby knew that the Night Wanderers would keep the civilians safe, despite the fires and the other property damage. They wanted to send a message, not butcher innocents.

“What do you want me to do?” Alex asked.

“Please don’t take offence, but I can’t take you into the Castle with me. It will be risky enough looking after myself, and I can’t yet rely on you to look after yourself.” Alex started to argue, but Toby stopped him. “I have no doubt that you have trained excellently these past weeks, but this is a case where experience outdoes talent. See that outcrop of trees over there?” Alex looked and nodded. “I want you to take cover there and make sure that no one follows me inside, from either entrance. Can I trust you to do that?”

Alex nodded once, looking a little like a petulant child being told to stay behind. Whether he knew it or not, Toby had entrusted him with a vital task. He had no idea how many guards were inside, and he could not afford to have someone tail him.

Toby clapped his friend on the shoulder and emerged from the brush, quietly making his way to the side entrance of the Castle, the servants’ door. If luck was on his side, everyone would expect all the Night Wanderers to be participating in the raid. The plan was to make it appear as though the group was pressing towards the Castle, to seem less like a distraction. Toby was not sure whether Lukas had alerted the other Watches to his plan to have a man on the inside.

A plume of black smoke shot upwards suddenly, quickly followed by a series of twenty-foot flames. Toby stilled and stared at the fire, trying to figure out whether it was purposeful or not. He suspected not. They were not trying to hurt anyone, and that fire would definitely have caused casualties.

Alex moved to the covering of trees. Toby continued towards the door and tested it. Locked, of course. He had a lockpick in his pocket anyway, but it would have been quicker and easier if the door had been left open. The lock clicked and Toby pocketed the little device. He pulled the scarf above his nose, glanced around for anyone that might see, and slipped inside.